


'cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

by lostariels



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Break Up, F/F, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostariels/pseuds/lostariels
Summary: based on the song drivers license
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 53
Kudos: 280





	'cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

It had been a week since Lena had finally taken the final step in getting her drivers license, a feat that she would’ve celebrated under different circumstances, but was now prone to feeling bitter about, as she did it more out of spite than any other reason. Sure, twenty-six was a bit late to be getting her license, but she’d never been  _ good _ at driving, never really had any need to. There had always been chauffeurs for that, on-call, waiting to drive her wherever she needed to go. Money could buy that for her, so what need was there?

It wasn’t that Lena had an  _ aversion _ to driving, but it had never really seemed a pressing concern, but Kara had taken great pride in teaching her to drive properly. They’d take the highway and drive out of the city Kara singing in the passenger seat as she instructed Lena, her laughter over the sound of the traffic around them as Lena nearly rear-ended a car or forgot to indicate, lamenting about how she’d never pass her practical test. But she was also patient and encouraging, and how Lena  _ loved _ those drives.

They’d driven everywhere together, at nighttime, mostly, when Kara was off the clock and Lena had called it a day at the office, visiting places far out in the suburbs where everything was still and they could park in an empty lot and sit for a while. Windows down, the cool air and the distant sounds of traffic so much quieter than the bustling city, which never seemed to stop.

Lena started to enjoy the peace that came with it, the gentle songs on the playlists Kara would make specially for their drives, the way the roads were emptier at night and the streetlights blurred the edges of the shadows, illuminating the interior of the car in intermittent bursts. She’d never felt more vulnerable than she did while sitting behind the wheel in the dimness of the car, the wheels turning as they ate up the miles, talking about anything and everything, even the things she was too afraid to say in the light of day.

That was  _ before _ , when Kara had written her letters and kissed her goodnight, when she’d wake up in her bed three times a week and drive out to the desert with burgers to watch the stars. That was before Kara had broken her heart in such an agonising way that Lena still wasn’t over it. She didn’t know  _ how _ to be okay without Kara around, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth to doubt everything they’d had, to wonder if her insecurities had been rational or not. All she knew was that they’d been the final straw for Kara.

It didn’t matter either way. Wondering wouldn’t bring Kara back, and getting her license didn’t feel like the victory Lena had imagined it would be. Still, every night she climbed into the driver’s seat of the brand new white Lexus,  _ wishing _ it was J’onn’s car that she’d practised in, and she drove through the suburbs, listening to the radio as she blinked back tears and felt her heart break just a little bit more at the empty seat beside her. 

Despite her broken heart and stubborn pride, Lena couldn’t help but drive down Kara’s street each night on the way back, winding through the city blocks and imagining that she’d just stop outside. She’d stop outside Kara’s apartment and go upstairs and she’d be there, just like all those times before, and things would be okay again. They’d forget about the rest of it; the fighting, the tears, the accusations.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, knowing in her bones that Kara would look at her with that pitiful, condescending look in her eyes, so  _ composed _ . It was like Lena had never meant a single thing to her when Kara looked at her like that, twisting the dagger in her heart just a little bit more. But she had the letters, the text messages and the photos, the promises of forever written in black ink, now smudged from Lena’s countless tears that had soaked into the paper.

And all the while, Lena  _ knew _ there was someone else. Her insecurities and doubts had convinced her of that, and she couldn’t bring herself to admit that she was wrong, because what was the point of it all if she was? She’d  _ seen _ Kara with William, had felt the twinge of jealousy singing in her blood as she watched them together, feeling herself pale in comparison to someone who was  _ normal _ . His flirting was so obvious that Kara’s oblivious dismissals seemed like a slap in the face to Lena, an uneasiness knotting her stomach as she doubted. Always doubted.

What could Lena offer her? She had money, a billion-dollar company and a house with a bedroom bigger than Kara’s entire studio, but that felt frivolous when she looked at herself. Lena was a broken woman, so used to being denied love, having to  _ earn _ it that she didn’t think there was anything about herself that was deserving of someone like Kara. Someone so  _ good _ , someone from a different world, the literal paragon of hope to humanity. Lena’s past was a stain on her skin, her name a brand that announced her untrustworthiness, and one day, Kara would look past her willingness to help everyone and realise the startling truth that Lena was just  _ not good enough _ . 

That night was no different to her new routine, the hour late, the office empty, save for Lena and her assistant, who was stubbornly loyal and would stay the whole night with her to help. Lena didn’t trust her, not after what happened with Eve. Lena didn’t trust  _ anyone _ anymore, not even herself, perhaps the most untrustworthy of all as she led herself astray again and again. 

And then there was a knock on the door to her office and her assistant ducked her head inside, brow furrowed with bewilderment. “Miss Luthor, I have Andrea Rojas here to see you. No appointment; she said you wouldn’t mind.”

With a soft sigh, Lena set the document in her hand down and straightened up in her chair, waving a hand at her assistant, “yes, it’s … fine, let her in.”

She looked up at the sound of heels clicking on the floor and raised an eyebrow at the dress her old friend was wearing, looking ready for a night out as opposed to a long day at the office, but Lena knew Andrea from boarding school, and she knew she had a flair for the dramatics. Whether that was a trait all billionaire heiresses inherited, or the thing that had drawn them together in the first place, Lena didn’t know, but she knew she’d never  _ entirely _ trust Andrea again. Still, she had little friends as it was now, and was reluctant to turn away the only person she had.

“Well, isn’t this a sorry sight,” Andrea said with amusement, nodding her head in Lena’s direction as she raised an eyebrow. “Still at the office at ten o’clock on a Friday night?”

“You  _ clearly _ knew I’d be here,” Lena said with a wry smile.

“Old habits,” Andrea nonchalantly replied, gripping the back of the chair across from Lena before she tilted her head to the side. “Drinks?”

Her thin amusement vanishing, Lena shuffled through the papers on her desk with a solemn look on her face, head ducked down and a flicker of irritation in her eyes. She clenched her teeth, shoulders hunched beneath her friend’s scrutiny.

“Not tonight.”

“Lena-”

“Save your breath. I know what you’re going to say.”

Sighing, Andrea gave her a pouting look of annoyance, “come on, Lena, you can’t just sit around and  _ mope _ all the time. I mean, how important could a  _ reporter _ be to you?”

Holding up a hand to stop her before she could continue, Lena closed her eyes, feeling a lump lodge itself in her throat as her stomach swooped, that hollow, sickly feeling that had lingered with her for the last two months making her unsteady. 

“I know you’re sick of hearing about how much I miss her, but you don’t  _ actually _ know her. If you did, maybe you’d be able to understand how I-”

Reaching forward to slam shut Lena’s laptop, Andrea gave her a scornful look, “I know better than  _ anyone _ . I know it better than  _ you _ how it feels to lose someone. I lost my  _ fiancé _ , so don’t tell me about how  _ hard _ it is that you had your heart broken. You think I’m sick of hearing about it? I  _ am _ , because while you sit here whining about how  _ hard _ it is for you, you forget that you have it  _ so much better _ than others.”

“You don’t know anything about my life, Andrea,” Lena bitingly replied with a hollow laugh, “you think that I have it easy? You think that I haven’t lost anyone, that I- I’m just so  _ well-liked? _ I don’t  _ get _ to be angry, I don’t get to be  _ hurt _ , because when I am, I’m just another Luthor going off the rails, just like my father, just like my mother, just like my brother. So forgive me for confiding in the  _ one _ person I have left about how it feels to have been let down  _ again _ , but no, I don’t want to get  _ drinks _ with you.”

A muscle twitching in her jaw as she swallowed, somewhat cowed by the lashing Lena had given her, Andrea’s voice was gentle when she spoke, her eyes shadowed with concern. “Look, I’m not  _ saying  _ you can’t miss her, but this … it isn’t  _ healthy _ . I know it’s not the first time you’ve lost someone but that- that’s my point … you’ve already lost  _ so much _ ; shouldn’t this be … easy?”

“I didn’t have a choice those other times,” Lena murmured, “they were ripped away, permanently. I could  _ handle _ that because it wasn’t up to me, but she’s- she’s not  _ gone _ and that just makes it worse. She’s  _ just _ across the city and I- I can’t …”

“Just come out for one drink. I don’t want you to feel so alone all the time.”

Sighing, Lena deflated behind her desk, running a hand over her face as she blinked back the burning in her eyes - from building tears or tiredness she didn’t know - and pinched the bridge of her nose. Slowly, she shook her head, a bitter taste in her mouth as she replied.

“I think I’d prefer it right now, actually.”

Silent for a moment, unmoving as she stared at Lena, Andrea shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Maybe next time.”

“Sure,” Lena distractedly replied, flipping through pages as she kept her eyes down.

Once Andre’s footsteps had retreated from the room, Lena tossed the pages onto the desk and slumped in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes. She didn’t move for a moment but then she slowly packed up and ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily as she climbed to her feet and gathered her things.

Pulling on her coat, she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped out of the office, giving her assistant a weak smile. “I’m done for the night. You can come in at noon tomorrow.”

Surprised, the young girl nodded and Lena said goodnight before stepping into the elevator. Her new car was brought around for her, the leather and chemical smell oddly comforting as she settled into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the engine. It purred to life and Lena switched on the headlights before turning on the radio as she pulled into traffic. 

She had nearly a full tank and sped down the street with the windows rolled down, cool air buffeting her as she merged with the traffic and took the ramp onto the highway. The smell of the desert wafted in, sweet and earthy, a warning of rain on the horizon, and Lena turned the radio up until the music drowned out any other sounds, as if it would blot out her thoughts as well. But they were too loud, even for the bass that vibrated through her hands clamped around the wheel.

White-knuckled, teeth clenched, she found herself slowly unravelling as she drove, speeding past signs until she hit the suburbs and slowed. And then it was more agony, her eyes burning with tears as she choked back her sobs, avoiding streets she’d turned down with Kara to sit in the car at the gas station or the convenience store, each one a sharp reminder of how much she loved Kara.

The hardest part was that she knew they were over, she  _ knew _ it, but it didn’t lessen the love she still felt. She couldn’t even fathom loving  _ anyone _ else, because how could she? Finding Kara had been rare enough and it had slipped through Lena’s fingers. How did she move on from something like that? Instead, she just drove, as if she could just avoid her feelings until everything stopped hurting, until the devastation no longer levelled her, until Lena stopped searching for Kara’s face in every car that went by, every store she went into, getting hung up on every sidewalk they’d ever walked down, laughing amidst the crowds. 

When she was driving, Lena could pretend that things were different. She could picture she was driving home to Kara when she made her way back into the city, but it never ended any differently. Every night since the start of last week, she’d driven down Kara’s street with that empty passenger seat beside her and let the fantasy end, and it never got any easier, but the alternative was worse, because at least Lena could pretend for a little while. But once she passed that red-bricked building it vanished it caved in on her all over again.

This time, as she finally made the drive back towards the glowing hub of activity, a halo of light surrounding the dark mass of buildings ahead of her as she drove over the harbour bridge, Lena didn’t expect it to be any different. But something had to give eventually, and as she pretended to ignore the building coming up on her right, her eyes slide sideways and she startled.

Pushing herself to her feet, from where she’d been waiting on the top step of the stoop, Kara slowly walked down the steps with slumped shoulders as her eyes locked on the Lexus driving past. Inside the car, Lena’s stomach lurched with such sickening force that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, gripping the wheel tighter as she forced her eyes to stay forward and drove past.

And then Kara was in front of her car, a bewildered look on her face as she slapped a hand on the bonnet before Lena could run her over. Not that it would’ve hurt Kara in the slightest, but it would’ve made a huge dent in the bumper of Lena’s car, so she broke in time, staring blankly at Kara through the windscreen.

Loping around to the passenger side, Kara jerked the door open and ducked her head down, peering inside with a sad look on her face. “We should talk; let’s go for a drive.”

Frozen, Lena couldn’t even bring herself to reply, her outrage mute in the face of such surprise as Kara let herself in and buckled up. The car idled as Lena stared straight ahead, unmoving until a car pulled up behind her and leant heavily on their horn.

Swallowing, Lena pressed her foot to the accelerator and cut through the next intersection to loop back around and take the entrance ramp to the highway. Neither of them spoke, the tension too much for Lena to even imagine speaking without her fragile mask shattering. She could  _ feel _ her jaw chattering silently in a weak tremor, already on the verge of breaking down, and she could feel Kara’s eyes on her as she stoically kept her eyes on the road.

“So, you got your license-”

As soon as Kara started talking, Lena immediately reached for the dial of the complex stereo system and flooded the car with the pulsating bass of the song playing. Anger burned in her stomach and she clenched her teeth hard enough to ache as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Sighing, Kara reached out and lowered the volume before she twisted in her seat to stare at Lena.

“Lena-”

Closing her eyes, Lena turned her head aside, not even looking at the road as she bared her teeth in an agonised grimace. The sob that worked its way up her throat came out as nothing more than a gasp as Lena tried to choke it down, stifle the overwhelming feeling in her chest, but it was futile and the tether snapped. Drawing in a ragged, shuddering breath, the next sob couldn’t be stopped and she pressed a hand to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears.

And then the passenger door was open, the alarm dinging on the dashboard before it was slammed shut and Kara was at the driver's side, one hand gripping the roof of the car as she tugged the door open and reached across Lena to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Let me drive,” Kara gently prompted her, nudging Lena’s foot off the accelerator as she took hold of the wheel.

The next sob was louder and Lena climbed over the centre console and curled up on the passenger seat as Kara slipped behind the wheel and shut the door. One eye on the road and one hand on the wheel, she reached across to buckle Lena in, the car not swerving an inch with her quick reflexes. And Lena hated every second of it, the helplessness, the embarrassment of breaking down.  _ Again. _ All while Kara seemed so … fine.

“How can you just- how can you be so  _ okay?” _ Lena asked, her voice breaking as she put her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

“I’m not okay, Lena,” Kara quietly replied, her voice tense and rough. “Not by a long shot.”

“Then I don’t understand why you- why you’re being like this! I mean … did you even mean all the things you said? Because- because it feels like-”

_ “Of course I meant it,” _ Kara harshly replied, her eyes bright with anger as she hunched her shoulders against the accusations. “This is  _ exactly _ why we broke up. You-”

Dropping her hands, her cheeks stained with tears as she looked at Kara with such devastation, her lips parted and her eyes full of so much anguish. But Kara wasn’t looking at her as she spoke, a tautness to her soft features that made Lena shrink back in her seat, barely knowing the woman beside her.

“Pull over,” Lena hoarsely demanded, interrupting Kara as she reached for the door handle.

“What-  _ no!  _ I-”

_ “Pull over!” _

Lena shoved the door open and Kara slammed the breaks on, the car coming to an abrupt halt. Fumbling with the seatbelt, Lena tumbled out onto the sidewalk feeling like she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know where they were and she didn’t really care, the wide road lined with dark shopfronts and a chainlink fence enclosing a basketball court. Running a hand through her hair, she drew in shallow breaths, a hand pressed to her chest as she fought to keep the sobs at bay.

_ “Lena,” _ Kara barked, her footsteps loud on the pavement as she chased after her.

Of  _ course _ she wouldn’t just leave her alone, wouldn’t leave the car parked for her to make her own way back. Kara always had to be there at the  _ worst  _ times and Lena didn’t have it in her to fight. She wasn’t given a choice though, Kara grabbing her arm and pulling her around to face her, her face furrowed with a look of confused annoyance.

“You can’t just …  _ run away _ from everything! What’re you going to do, walk home?”

“Just leave me alone, Kara. Why are you even  _ here?” _

“Because,” Kara faltered, spluttering, “because I’ve heard you driving down my street  _ every single night _ for the last twelve nights, so forgive me for thinking that _maybe_ you had something to say.”

_ “Oh, _ I have  _ plenty _ to say,” Lena snorted with laughter, wiping at her eyes.

Throwing her hands up as she let out a huff of frustration, Kara’s mouth thinned with anger. “Then say it!”

“What’s even the point? It’s not like it’ll change your mind.”

“You act like  _ I’m _ the one being irrational here, but you  _ know _ I’m not the one to blame.”

A hysterical sound bubbled up Lena’s throat as she gave Kara a tearful smile of incredulity, shrugging helplessly, “you never are, are you?”

Clenching her jaw, Kara balled her hands into fists as she looked away, a wounded flicker running across her features. Drawing in a long breath, Kara exhaled sharply. “You know, I wouldn’t have minded that you’re  _ so _ insecure and jealous if it wasn’t for the fact that you tried to pin it on  _ me. _ I understood  _ why _ \- I know it hasn’t been easy for you - but it  _ really _ fucking hurt me, Lena, and I don’t think you even really got that.”

“I  _ know _ you went on a date with him,” Lena hotly replied, fresh tears spilling over as her cheeks flushed with indignation. “For all you told me that I was making it up, you went on a  _ date _ with him not even a  _ month _ after you broke up with me. So tell me again how I was making shit up, because from where  _ I’m _ standing-”

“Yes, I went on a date with him,” Kara haughtily replied, her own cheeks reddening, “because I wanted to prove to  _ myself _ that there was nothing there. I wanted to know for sure if you were right, and you know what? He was  _ boring _ . He was  _ so boring _ that he would be … the  _ last _ person you should  _ ever _ have felt threatened by. But you didn’t trust me when I told you that there was nothing between me and William, no matter how many times I told you. You didn’t  _ trust me. _ ”

“It was never _about_ you!” Lena exclaimed, her voice cracking as she grabbed the front of Kara’s jacket, seized with urgency. “I know it was … me. I know that but I just can’t- I have … never felt _good_ _enough_ for you.”

Letting out a breathless laugh, Kara’s expression softened into one of mystified bewilderment as one side of her mouth hitched into an uneven smile. There was no humour in it though and Lena’s mouth was dry as she looked up at Kara with such longing written on her face.

_ “Good enough?  _ Lena, I- … if you’re not good enough for me then … I don’t know  _ who _ is.”

Swallowing thickly, Lena hung her head, shoulders shaking with sobs as she clutched Kara’s jacket and watched her tears splash onto the sidewalk, leaving dark spots on the concrete. “Then why do I always feel like … you never felt the same way about me like I do for you? It feels like … it was never going to last and I don’t know- I don’t know what to do without you.”

“I don’t know,” Kara softly sighed, her anger fading into weary resignation as she hung her head, the two of them standing toe to toe, helpless and hurt. “You just … you can’t conceive that I might  _ actually _ love you too. And that’s not your fault, but … I didn’t  _ do _ anything to make you think that I would  _ ever _ be fooling around with someone else behind your back. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make you trust me.”

“I  _ do _ trust you,” Lena sobbed, her voice so small and pathetic that she couldn’t even meet Kara’s eyes, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. You  _ know _ that, and I just- I miss you, because I still love you.”

Kara’s hands cupped her cheeks and she raised Lena’s head, her blue eyes swimming with tears as she thumbed away the ones on Lena’s cheeks. “Then why does it feel like you don’t?”

Breath hitching on a sob, Lena reached up to cover Kara’s hand with her own, leaning into the warmth of her touch. “I know- I know we’re not perfect, but I just … feel miserable  _ all the time. _ How am I supposed to love someone else after you? I can’t- I can’t imagine it. I just can’t. I don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

Hushing her, Kara pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shaking shoulders as she cradled her head against her shoulder. Lena grasped the back of her jacket in her tight grip as she sobbed, feeling so tired that she couldn’t stop. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t stop.

“It’s  _ okay,” _ Kara whispered, “it’s not the end of the world.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?”

“Because we loved each other.”

“I  _ miss _ you. I can’t go anywhere without seeing you in it. I can’t even go for a  _ drive _ without missing you next to me.”

She felt Kara’s heartbeat stumble as the breath shuddered out of her, her embrace tightening slightly, “I miss you too.”

“This doesn’t have to be through,” Lena murmured, a plea in her muffled voice. “I know that I’m difficult to love, but I can- I can do better. I just … don’t want to spend every night driving down your street, wishing you were with me.”

“You’re  _ not _ difficult to love; I wish you knew how easy it was. I just- I don’t know  _ how _ to make you believe it.”

“Just don’t go,” Lena choked out, “don’t go again.”

Pulling her head back, Lena stared up at Kara with hopelessness in her eyes, her eyebrows raising slightly in anticipation of Kara’s answer. She didn’t speak for the longest moment, and Lena flinched back slightly, breaking Kara’s fragile hold on her as her heart sank. 

And then Kara pulled her forward, catching Lena as she stumbled and kissing her roughly. Lena’s trembling lips parted and she went limp in Kara’s arms, relief flooding through her as fresh tears squeezed out of the corner of her eyes. 

Pulling away, Kara wiped her cheeks with the cuff of her jacket and gave Lena a piercing look, filled with guilt and regret as she slowly took a step back. And that hurt more anything else in the world, the hopeful look on Lena’s face dashed by the shocking realisation that she’d got it all wrong.

“I just don’t believe you,” Kara said, her eyes shining with tears as she turned, pulling off her glasses, and was nothing more than a blur disappearing into the night.

Pressing a hand to her mouth, cutting off the strangled sound that clawed its way up her throat, Lena’s vision blurred with tears as she curled in on herself.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, only that the pain didn’t go away. Even when she’d cried herself to nothing, just a hollow shell of exhaustion, she still hurt, embarrassment and cold shock numbing her.

Eventually, she climbed back in her car, the keys left in the ignition, and somehow managed to drive back home, unaware of her surroundings. The only thing she could fixate one was that even after everything, she still drove down Kara’s street, alone, with the empty passenger seat, haunted by the ghost of Kara’s laugh as she passed by her building. 


End file.
